


A demon? In my attic? More likely than you think

by LeFay_Strent



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Demons, M/M, analogical - Freeform, pre-analogical - Freeform, remile - Freeform, this is why you shouldn't clean your attic ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 17:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeFay_Strent/pseuds/LeFay_Strent
Summary: “Well that’s what happens when your dad asks you to clean the attic and it’s filled with a bunch of junk from his wiccan days,” Virgil explained, though from the demon’s pinched expression the explanation left a lot to be desired.





	A demon? In my attic? More likely than you think

Virgil didn’t want for much in his life.

Sure, his brother could get annoying. And his dads could be too much at times. Emile had a great exuberance for life while Remy would raise his wine glass to his husband in encouragement from his recliner. They lived in a two-story suburban home, complete with a white picket fence, garden, and fat cat named Antoine (lovingly named by Remy after a soap opera actor he absolutely hated).

So yeah, all in all, they lived an emotionally and financially secure life.

In other words, Virgil desired nothing that he would want to trade his soul for.

The put-out demon standing in front of him would just have to get over it.

“Let me see if I understand this,” he began in a low voice, electric blue irises flaring bright against black sclera. “You summoned me, yet you have no wish for me to grant?”

“ _Accidentally_  summoned you. I already told you,” Virgil corrected. He leaned down and picked up the cursed book he had dropped after the demon appeared out of nowhere. To be honest, it’d scared the shit out of him and he had grabbed the nearest weapon he could find in the cramped attic space (i.e. an unshaded antique lamp). But after some drawn-out minutes of the hell spawn just standing there waiting for Virgil to make a deal, he quickly got over the whole ‘demons-actually-exist’ thing and was just irritated. Because of course his dad had demon summoning books in the attic and of course Virgil just had to be the one to stumble onto them and stupidly read them aloud.

“How so?” the demon challenged. He didn’t have bat wings or a spaded tail, but his whole being was shrouded in an oppressive, black aura. The darkness twitched around him in agitation. “I fail to see how that’s possible.”

“Well that’s what happens when your dad asks you to clean the attic and it’s filled with a bunch of junk from his wiccan days,” Virgil explained, though from the demon’s pinched expression the explanation left a lot to be desired.

“So your father asked of you to summon me?”

Virgil wiped his face, uncaring if he messed up his eyeshadow. “Ya know, for a demon, this is just going through your head, isn’t it?”

The demon paused for a moment before touching his temple in contemplation, as if looking for a wound.

Were all demons this dense or was it just this one?

“Not literally, just— _ugh_ ,” he cut himself off in frustration. He turned back to the endless amount of boxes he still had to go through. “Just think of this as a wrong number dial and beat it. I don’t want to deal with this.”

“So you wish for no deal at all?”

“Considering what you probably want in return for anything I ask for? No, I don’t want anything but for you to leave right now.”

There was blessed silence for a minute. Virgil refused to turn around, as if not seeing the demon would erase his presence entirely. He tossed the spell book he’d found into the box from which it came. If only he had a marker on him. He’d write on the top in all caps “TOSS IN BURN PILE”. His dad didn’t have to know.

“. . . this has never happened before,” the demon murmured behind him.

Virgil nearly groaned. “You’re still here?”

“Of course. I’ve yet to complete my purpose. If I’m to be summoned, then I must make a deal. That’s how this works. Always . . .”

“Poor bastards then,” Virgil commented. He wondered how many ‘customers’ the demon had made deals with. Not one of them had the sense to turn the guy down? Surely people weren’t that brainless—

Then again, he pictured each of his family members, how they would have reacted if they had been the ones to come up here today and accidentally summon a demon.

You know what, maybe it was lucky that he was the one to find that book.

“I cannot leave until the ritual is complete,” the demon carried on. “A wish made, for a price paid.”

Fed up, Virgil pushed the box aside and went to stomp downstairs.

“Then live in the attic forever, I guess,” he said flippantly.

The demon didn’t follow.

* * *

The weekend carried on like normal after that. His dad asked about the attic. Virgil said he’d finish it later, and Emile believed his son because his boys were ‘honest, good boys’ or whatever sappy crap. Seriously, his dad was too gay sometimes.

The demon didn’t make an appearance again and Virgil didn’t care enough to check the attic to see if he had left. If anything, Virgil just wanted to forget the whole thing had happened and return to a simple reality where supernatural crap didn’t exist.

On Monday, he returned to the school grind. Senior year wasn’t that much harder than the grades previous, but Virgil took his grades seriously and wouldn’t let people stereotype him as a delinquent more than they already did. His tall, brooding stature had its advantages in scaring away unwanted social interactions, but sometimes he could do without the harsh rep.

That’s why he sat at his desk that morning, notes laid out before him to prep for the quiz they had in a few minutes. Roman, his twin brother, sat to his left hissing out, “ _Nerd_ ,” every now and then, but Virgil wouldn’t let it mess with his concentration.

“Don’t come crying to me when I’m in college and you’re flipping burgers,” Virgil retorted.

“You do realize that a lot of college kids flip burgers just to get by, right?” Roman said.

Virgil considered his brother’s words, gauging him solemnly. “. . . you know, I think that’s the most perceptive thing you’ve ever said.”

And then Roman ruined it by elegantly dabbing. He didn’t know a dab could be elegant, but Roman’s version could only be described as such.

Distantly, Virgil registered that someone sat in the desk to his right. He didn’t really pay attention to it until the person tapped his shoulder. He glanced over, doing a double-take as something about the glasses wearing guy looked incredibly . . . familiar.

“Hi!” he chirped in a god-awful peppy tone. “I’m Logan and I’m new here. Just wanted to say hello and introduce myself.”

“I’m . . . Virgil. Have we met before?”

And just as the words left his mouth, he saw a shadow briefly shade Logan’s eyes. The skin on the back of Virgil’s neck pricked sharply, but the guy just kept smiling innocently.

“I don’t think so. I just arrived here this weekend.”

This weekend . . .

What the fuck?

Virgil stood so abruptly that his notes fell to the floor. Roman must have been staring at him weird, surprised by Virgil’s sudden intensity, but he didn’t care. He snatched Logan’s wrist and dragged him out of the classroom, ignoring Roman’s confused call of, “Virge?”

It only confirmed Virgil’s suspicions when Logan allowed himself to be dragged, not once protesting.

Once in the locker-lined hallway and relatively away from listening ears, Virgil turned on him. Logan’s easy smile hadn’t dimmed a bit, and his eyes were a safe brown color and his skin looked normal, but Virgil knew better.

“What are you doing here?”

“To receive my education, just like any other student here.”

“Cut the crap, I know it’s you,” Virgil growled. He didn’t appreciate this demon toying with him, not when he acted so obviously.

Instantly, Logan’s cheerful demeanor melted away. No emotions showed, save for an inquisitive pinch to his brows. “And here I thought I had disguised myself satisfactorily. Does my performance as a human boy leave something to be desired?”

Wait, he was serious?

“I thought you wanted me to know it was you. Wait, why are you even here? I told you to get lost.”

Logan held his chin in thought. “I determined that you would reveal a lacking in your life if I were to observe you up close. I didn’t think that I would be exposed so quickly.”

Jesus, he really was serious.

“So what, you were just going to spy on me to get some dirt?”

Logan titled his head to the side. “If I wanted dirt, I would go outside to gather some. What I want is a wish from you so the ritual can be complete.”

“For God’s sake,” Virgil said to himself, taking a deep breath. Maybe a smarter person would think twice about antagonizing a powerful demon, but when said demon couldn’t even parse through a sentence without taking it literally, Virgil lost his patience. “I told you, I don’t want  _anything_  from you. Now stop bothering me.”

“Impossible. All humans want something, and I intend to find what you want. Until then, I can’t leave.” With that, Logan (probably not even his real name), spun on his heel and walked back to the classroom. Before entering, he threw a smile over his shoulder, back to his fake peppiness. “Let’s return to class, shall we?”

Virgil fumed and imagined how bad it’d look if he tried to choke Logan out in the middle of the hallway.

“Don’t worry, he’s a demon in disguise,” he’d say to the staff that would try to intervene.

Yeah, that’d go over well.


End file.
